


when the dawn breaks

by kay_emm_gee



Series: the kids aren't alright (The 100 tumblr prompts) [111]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode: s04e13 Praimfaya - Time Jump, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 05:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14909609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: She and Monty didn’t sleep in a bedroom the first night in space, but they did find a hallway.





	when the dawn breaks

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt: first night in space
> 
> tw: mentions jasper's suicide

That first night, the seven of them kept close. They slept within hearing distance of each other, in case something went wrong. Nobody said it out loud, but they all knew it was a possibility. Luck didn’t hold out forever, especially not when survival was on the line.

So she and Monty didn’t sleep in a bedroom the first night, but they did find a hallway. Survival was a team sport, as Clarke had said, but it was also something that took a toll on the soul. Harper had just barely managed to hang onto the scraps of hers in the past few days. She still felt so raw, so exposed. And with one look at Monty’s bleary, swollen eyes, she knew he did too.

So she led him to a small branch off the main hallway, laid down a spare blanket they had taken from Becca’s ship, and made them a little space of their own. Monty seemed confused at first. He looked down at her as she lay there, propped up on her elbow. His arms were limp by his side, his gaze unfocused, as if he wasn’t seeing her at all.

“Come here,” she finally whispered.

Although it took a moment, her voice did seem to penetrate the fog surrounding him. He joined her on the blanket, lying down on her side as she did. They were nose to nose, quiet, so incredibly exhausted but with hearts too full to fall asleep just yet.

“Harper,” he breathed.

She tried to give him a small smile, but couldn’t. Too much of her was still made up of open wounds. She would smile again, someday.

Someday, but not tonight. Instead, she lifted her one hand and rested her palm on Monty’s cheek.

“I’m here.” She idly stroked her thumb against his cold skin. “I’m here.”

He closed his eyes.

A minute later, she saw the tears slip out, despite his best efforts to keep them at bay.

“I don’t know how to do this without him.” The sound of his voice was a jagged thing, one part air and a thousand parts grief. “I don’t know how to  _be_  without him.”

She didn’t know what to say, because there was nothing  _to_  say. So she kept stroking his cheek, and letting him cry, and telling him, just with the sound of her soft but steady breaths:

_I’m here._

_I’m here._

_I’m here._

* * *

When Harper woke the next morning, Monty was still asleep. She listened to his inhales and exhales, which took on a slight wheezing quality when he turned onto his back suddenly.

It was such a mundane thing–lying there in the early morning hours, listening to the boy she loved snore–that she let out a soft huff of breath that almost felt like a laugh. And in the next breath, just like that, her eyes watered, and a tear slipped out of the corner of her eye.

 _I’m here_ , she thought in wonder and in awe.  _I’m still here._


End file.
